


Meme-ry

by misbegotten



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: "What's a meme, then?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> If "just playing with pixels" were a tag...

"What's a meme, then?" Robbie squints, rubs his chin.

James taps his finger on the computer screen before them. It's the victim's online blog. Nothing is sacred in a murder investigation, particularly thoughts broadcast to one's Internet friends. "In this case, it's something repeated on the 'Net. Sometimes it's an image or a saying. Here it's a kind of survey."

Robbie looks doubtful. "And does this tell us anything helpful?" He peers at the laptop, the small type obviously a challenge. James automatically adjusts the font size, and Robbie relaxes a bit. "Favourite colour?"

"Blue," James answers absently.

"Blue's her favourite colour?"

James flushes slightly. "Yours."

"Ah, right." Robbie leans back in his chair, obviously amused. "Favourite sport?"

"Cricket. That one's easy."

"Favourite season."

"Spring."

"And how do you know that?" Robbie asks, though he doesn't dispute it.

James smiles enigmatically.

Robbie glances at the screen. "Aha! Favourite scent. You can't get that one."

James looks away. "You're right. I can't."

*

Much later, burrowed in the duvet, James regards Robbie thoughtfully. He pulls the covers more tightly around himself, and Robbie grumbles a little as he yanks back his share. "Thief," Robbie says.

"Copper," James replies, as usual. And then, "What _is_ your favourite scent?"

"Stale cigarettes," Robbie says and James blinks.

"You hate my cigarettes."

Robbie twists his fingers into James' short hair and pulls him into kissing range. The kiss lingers, until Robbie finally breaks it. "Stale cigarettes," he repeats. "Your aftershave. And the trace of the river on your skin when you've been rowing. That's my favourite scent."

James moves, covers Robbie's body with his own. "I love you too."


End file.
